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PMDU Temporary App: Team Ready to Rumble

Deviation Actions

Published: Nov 5, 2013

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Literature Text

TEAM NAME: Ready to Rumble
Date Joined: 3rd November 2013
Current Funds: 5st

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1st MEMBER SIGNATURE: Patterson
Pokemon Species: Hitmonchan
Nature and Characteristic: Hasty - Likes to fight
Gender: Male Age: Adult
Ability: Iron Fist - Boosts the power of Punch attacks

Strength: ***** Agility: ***
Intelligence: ** Charisma: **

Total Points Left: 0
Type bonus: Fighting - 2 points to Strength

Move 1: Mach Punch - A lightning fast punch that spears out incredibly quickly.
Move 2: Power-Up Punch - A hard punch thrown up close. Landing it seems to boost the user's offensive force.
Move 3: Sky Uppercut - A razor-sharp uppercut thrown skywards. Can be turned into a skyward leap to strike flying foes.
Move 4: Counter - A powerful riposte following an opponent's assault that returns the damage with considerable interest.

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2nd MEMBER SIGNATURE: Whitaker
Pokemon Species: Toxicroak
Nature and Characteristic: Impish - Thoroughly cunning
Gender: Male Age: Adult
Ability: Anticipation - Senses an opponent's super-effective and one-hit KO moves

Strength: *** Agility: ****
Intelligence: **** Charisma: *

Total Points Left: 0
Type bonus: Poison and Fighting - One point each to Strength and Intelligence

Move 1: Drain Punch - A strange punch that seems to leech away the victim's strength to restore that of the user.
Move 2: Poison Jab - A stab with venom-tipped claws that may leave the target inflicted with poison.
Move 3: Sucker Punch - A sudden attack thrown while the opponent is preparing an attack, taking them off-guard.

Move 4: Taunt - An insult thrown at an opponent, provoking them into a blind rage.

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========== WRITTEN TEST ===========

It was a beautiful day in Andallust city. The high street was crowded with Pokémon going about their business, cheerfully giving their custom to the various merchants lining either side of the high street. There wasn't a single unfriendly face to be seen.

That is, unless you counted the pair of surly Fighting-types leaning against the street corner. On one side was a Hitmonchan, his gloved arms crossed in front of his chest. His menacing glower cast a shadow like a solitary thundercloud on a sunny day. Besides him, a skeezy-looking Toxicroak leant casually beside him, his long arms left dangling lazily by his sides. His amber-coloured eyes were underlined by a nefarious-looking grin that seemed to not only threaten ill intent, but somehow promise it. A young Marill strayed a little too far away from its mother, as it stared curiously at the two out-of-place figures. The two returned the stare with an intense glare, that caused the young one to get nervous and retreat back towards the safety of its parent. The two broke the stare in a way that almost made them seem disappointed.

"Nice city these folks have built, huh?" The Toxicroak rasped hoarsely, with a slightly mocking undertone that betrayed the fact that he was somehow more amused by the city than impressed by it.

"Yeah, real nice." The Hitmonchan growled. "So nice it makes me want to throw up."

The Toxicroak rolled his eyes, although his grin stayed fixed. "Lighten up, Patterson. If you keep on scowling at everything like that, your face will end up fixed that way."

The Hitmonchan stepped away from the wall momentarily, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I can't help it!" He shouted. "You'd think that a big city like this would have more going for it! But everything's so goddamn... civilised! It's boring! Where's the excitement!"

"You ever think that perhaps this place is still standing precisely because it's civilised, Patterson?" The Toxicroak chided. The brief flash of admonishment that crossed Patterson the Hitmonchan's face confirmed that no, he hadn't thought of that at all. "Didn't think so. Excitement doesn't just happen in these kind of places." His grin suddenly turned even darker and more nefarious. "That is, unless you make it happen yourself."

Patterson's frown suddenly inverted. "Now that's the Whitaker I know. What did you have in mind? The tavern we passed by on the way here?"

Whitaker nodded. "Mh-hm." He grunted. "There ought to be at least a couple of tough customers there. Let's go raise a little hell before they decide to throw us out of this dump."

Patterson slowly rotated his right arm in a broad circle, loosening the shoulder joint. "Sounds like a plan. I wasn't planning on hanging around in this tip anyway, but it'd be a shame if we were to move on without getting to know some of the locals first. Getting to know them with my fists, that is."

Whitaker sighed as he stood up straight from his leaning posture. "You're a master of metaphor, you know. Let's go." He said, with a twitch of his head towards the corner that there were just leant besides. Both of them shared the same sinister smirk as they rounded the corner.

It promptly vanished as a pale brown and white furry object struck Whitaker in the chest, knocking him onto his backside. Whitaker looked up at the offending Furret expecting to see at least some hint of apology, but what he actually saw incensed him. The Furret actually had the gall to look annoyed as he bent over to retrieve his stupid hat.

"Watch it!" The Furret chastised him, his furry eyebrows furrowed angrily over his pale white eyes as he restored his cap to its rightful place on top of his head. "Why, I oughta toss ya into the street for that!”

Whitaker was actually dumbfounded for a moment. Was this loser - a normal type, at that - actually threatening him? He wasn't planning on brawling out in the middle of a crowded street today, but he wasn't prepared to let this guy get the better of him that easily. He rose to his feet, drawing himself up to his full height, his venomous claws sliding out from his wrists with an audible schlink. His bright red throat pouch expanded as he puffed himself up.

"You've got some nerve, asshole." he croaked. "We'll see who tosses who-URK!"

He was suddenly knocked to the floor again as Patterson barged his way past him, fists held out in front of him. He placed one fist right underneath the Furret's chin threateningly. "Nobody gets away with disrespecting my friend like that! You better apologise right now and make it damn convincing before I rearrange your face!"

"Hey, how about you apologise to me too, while you're at it!" Whitaker shouted angrily at his friend from the ground. Patterson turned back, embarassment mixing with anger.

"Shut up! You should be more grateful! I'm trying to defend your honour and dignity here!" He shouted back. Whitaker stood back up, his eyes now fixed angrily on Patterson, who in turn rounded on him. There was a very tense silence for a moment as the two stood face-to-face with each other, the Furret, for the moment, completely forgotten. It was interrupted by a slightly muffled laugh, which turned into full-blown laughter as the Furret lost it over the ridiculous scene that was playing out in front of him. He made a visible effort to keep his mirth in check as he stepped forward, amicably slapping both of the irate fighting types on the back.

"Heh, just joshin’ ya. Only uptight nerds fight over bumpin’ into each other." he said. Both Patterson and Whitaker felt one jolt of renewed anger at the obvious barb they'd just been dealt, but both of them quickly realised that he had a point. Patterson's hands drooped down to his waist, while Whitaker's claws slowly withdrew with a slow, sad schlurrrrrp.

"I like your style, though. You new around here? I’m guessin’... stepped outta the fog and got all confused? How close am I?" The Furret continued, ignoring the fight that almost broke out. In truth, the whole exchange had knocked the wind out of their sails - their pride had been dealt a severe blow, but there wasn't going to be any satisfaction in clobbering the Furret now - especially as it appeared as if he was blind anyway.

Whitaker and Patterson both stepped away from each other with a sharp, frustrated exhalation.

"Yeah, something like that." Patterson responded curtly.

"M-hm." Whitaker grunted. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we were just heading to the bar." In truth he wasn't sure how true this still was. His pride knocked, he didn't feel nearly so keen on a brawl as he did to begin with. He just wanted to get away from this humiliating incident.

"Hey, I was just going the same way!" The Furret said, which was somewhat doubtful, seeing as the bar in question laid in the opposite direction to the one he had originally been travelling in. "I'll come with you and buy you fine fellows a couple of drinks to make up for it all. Whaddya say?"

The two fighting-types exchanged a glance. There was one thing they liked better than fighting other tough guys in strange places - and that was drinking on somebody else's tab. In an instant, their mood rose considerably.

"Hey, sure, buddy." Patterson said in a tone of blatantly feigned friendliness. "Come with us!" Whitaker cringed at the falsity in his friend's tone, but for some reason the Furret either seemed to not notice or care. He trotted into formation alongside the two fighting types as they started in the direction of the bar.

"So, give me the full story." The Furret demanded. "What brings two guys like you here?"

"Dumb luck, I suppose." Whitaker said. "It's not the first time we've ended up in some strange place. We spend most of our time wandering through the fog, going randomly from place to place,... doing... erm... stuff..." Whitaker was reticent to elaborate, given that most of what they did was brawling with strangers.

"Oh? What kind of 'stuff?'" The Furret asked.

"Brawling, of course!" Patterson said before Whitaker could give a more diplomatic answer. "That's what we like doing best of all - getting into fights with other strong Mons. And there hasn't been any loser who's been able to beat us one-on-one since we've set out so far. We're hoping that we can run into someone tough round these pa-" Patterson fell silent as Whitaker elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a killing glance.

"Do you want us to get thrown out right now?" He hissed sideways at him. However, the Furret, again, seemed somehow not to care.

"Oh yeah? Think I’ve heard that one before… maybe not, though. My memory’s all fuzzy after ya scrambled my brain a few seconds ago."

Is this guy making fun of us? Or is he a police officer or something? Whitaker thought to himself with a concerned frown.

"Anyway… name’s Cuffin. Pleased to meetcha!" The Furret informed them in an infuriatingly cheerful tone. "Now, how ‘bout you tell me who ya are?"

Patterson gave a small, proud grin. He pointed one thumb of his glove towards his Toxicroak friend. "This here is Whitaker, the craftiest frog to ever leap, and the smoothest operator in the whole world."

Whitaker returned the grin, and turned his own thumb towards here is Patterson in response. "And this here is Patterson, the hard puncher with nerves of steel and fists to match them."

“Not bad, not bad. I wouldn’t name my kids that… but hey, it’s a free world." Cuffin responded. He saw the two of them getting slightly riled at the jibe, so he changed the subject. "So, you guys lookin’ into the guilds here? They look pretty desperate for newbies. Think you’d wanna join one of ‘em?”

"Guilds?" Patterson asked, somewhat dimly.

"Yeah, you know." Cuffin said in a tone that seemed better suited to a small child. "The Explorers, the Hunters, the Researchers. Worth looking at if you want to find work."

"Don't need anything like that." Patterson replied dismissively. "We're fine for cash right now. How much do we have left?" He asked Whitaker.

Whitaker produced a small pouch, although it was hard to tell from where. He opened it up and examined the contents. He suddenly went very stiff. His legs didn't look solid underneath him anymore. "Erm..." he quavered. "Five Starcoins."

"You see?" Patterson beamed. "Five hundred starcoins. That's plenty."

Whitaker ignored him and turned back towards Cuffin, grinning a little uneasily. "So um... these guilds pay, right? Could you tell us a little more about them, buddy?" He asked.

Cuffin idly scratched his chin. "Well, there's the Researchers, who're the real brains around this part. I'd consider those if you're the intellectual sort."

Whitaker's right eyelid spasmed for a moment. "Do we look like the intellectual sort to you?"

"There's the Hunters too." Cuffin carried on, ignoring him. "They're the real secretive shady sorts. Got lots of influence."

I like the sound of that latter part. Whitaker thought to himself. He shot a glance to his partner, who was still smiling stupidly. But I somehow don't think Patterson could pull of the former part. "What else is there?" He asked.

"Well, that would just leave the Explorers. They delve into those Dungeons, digging for treasure or whatever, I guess. Real dirty work. Bunch of real tough customers."

That seemed to catch Patterson's attention. "Tough guys, you say?" He grinned. "Sounds like my kind of show."

Whitaker nodded in agreement. "My thoughts too."

"Really? I wouldn’ta pinned ya for that type. I woulda thought you'd make good Researchers for sure."

Before Whitaker could shoot an angry retort, Patterson placed one glove on Whitaker's shoulder, his expression just now starting to turn to worry. "Erm, Whitaker -" he said. "Earlier, you did say we had five hundred Starcoins right? Call me crazy, but it sounded like you said just five."

Whitaker gave Cuffin an I-told-you-so look. Cuffin shrugged.

"Well, I guess the Explorers would be glad to have ya, though. From what I know, they always want ya to have some kinda “team name” to work under ‘em with. What do ya think yours would be?"

Whitaker gave an irritated shrug. "I never even heard of any "guilds" before just now. You want me to come up with an official team name right here and now?"

"Aw, c'mon. You've gotta be kidding me." Cuffin chided. "You guys look like you're ready to rumble all the time. You telling me you can't do something as easy as coming up with a simple name?"

"Hey, how about that!" Patterson suddenly interjected.

"How about what?" Whitaker asked.

"What what's-his-name, Coffin or whatever, just said. Ready to rumble. Doesn't that just describe us down to the ground?" Patterson responded.

Whitaker stroked his chin between his thumb and forefinger for a moment, nodding slowly. "Alright, that sounds as good as anything I can think of. I guess it works for me."

“Well, ain’t heard that one before." Cuffin replied.

"But you just gave us the idea!" Whitaker protested.

"You might not wanna walk into the rough parts of town callin’ yourself that…"

"But we practically told you that was what we were planning on doing to begin with!" Whitaker responded again.

"eh, or maybe do it anyway if you can handle yourself. I mean, no doubt you can probably throw a punch..."

"You think?" Patterson growled.

"...or maybe you’ve got a silver tongue."

I wish we did. Maybe we'd be rid of you by now. Whitaker thought.

Is he going to buy us drinks anytime this millenium? Patterson thought, his thoughts drifting to the fact that he was a lot less drunk than he wanted to be at that moment.

"The guilds look for stuff like that. How ‘bout you tell me what ya think your strengths are, just to get your story straight for when they wanna know?”

"Strengths?" Whitaker said. "What is this, an interview?"

"I don't care if it is or not!" Patterson interjected. "I'll never turn down an opportunity to brag about my many accomplishments!"

"Maybe I should just tell you about Patterson's strong points and save us some time." Whitaker said. "Once he starts, he'll never stop."

"Spoilsport." Patterson sulked.

"For starters, he's the toughest guy I know, end of." Whitaker said. "He's never backed down from any fight he's been in so far. Probably because he's never had to. It seems like wearing him down is pretty much impossible. He just seems to get stronger and stronger."

"That's all down to my Power-up Punch!" Patterson said proudly. "So long as I can stand up straight, I'll just keep on getting more and more fired up with each one that I land! If somebody can't take me out right away, they're not going to be taking me out at all!"

"That said, I'm not sure even attempting to take him down in one shot is wise." Whitaker said. "If you try that, you might just have one of his Counters coming back at you. And that's not even counting that fast Mach punch of his, or that uppercut." He snorted a little. "I'm not even sure how to beat him, and I probably know him better than anyone."

"Don't be so modest." Patterson smirked. "You'd find a way to beat me for sure. No denying it." He turned to face Cuffin, turning his thumb towards "I'd hate to have to fight this guy myself. He's as slippery as an Eelektrik and wilier than a Delphox."

"Heh." Whitaker chuckled. "It's true. I love to fight - but nobody said I had to fight fair."

"I could probably count the number of times I've seen him get hit cleanly by any kind of attack on one hand. He just seems to have a knack for dodging and swaying away from anything that comes his way. And he keeps a nasty bag of tricks up his sleeve." Patterson continued. "He's got this magic punch that somehow heals him by hitting an opponent. I keep telling him to teach me it, but he refuses. Or hey, there's those poison claws of his too. He likes to stick those home and let the poor loser he's fighting slowly wilt away from the poisoning while he just dodges anything that comes back."

"Mhhhhmmmm." Whitaker sighed in a gruesomely satisfied way. "Yeah, that moment when the good ol' toxins finally finish their work, and the poor sap's eyes go out of focus and he slumps to the floor. That's good stuff." He chortled hoarsely and malevolently, looking like the bufoid incarnation of the grim reaper. Cuffin sidled up towards Patterson, whispering in his ear.

"Urm, does this guy act this creepy often?" He asked nervously.

"Oh, all the time." Patterson said, not bothering to whisper in response. "He makes everybody else's skin crawl. It's no wonder he doesn't have any friends apart from me."

"It's not like you're any better off in that regard!" Whitaker fumed in response.

"Don't need any other friends." Patterson said cheerfully. "You might be the slimiest, creepiest toad to ever crawl out of a swamp, but there's nobody I'd ever rather have backing me up in a brawl."

Despite the insult, Whitaker cracked a smile. "And you might be a leather-for-brains knucklehead moron, but I'll gladly return that compliment."

"Hell yeah!" Patterson said, throwing one fist around Whitaker's shoulder and pulling him into an awkward shoulder-to-shoulder hug, the pair of them facing Cuffin. "So you see, Curfuffle, that's our real strength - we're two badass guys who stand shoulder to shoulder, raising hell everywhere they go! Comradeship! How'd you like that?"

Cuffin was surprisingly quiet, nodding serenely despite the absurd grandiosity of Patterson's statements.

“Yeah… yeah, I can respect that." He eventally replied. "Everybody’s gotta get by in their own way, and there ain’t nobody who knows that better than me. If you play on your strengths, you’ll get far here, I bet.”

"Heh, I doubt that." Whitaker said. "We weren't really planning on stopping around these parts. I daresay we'll be sent on our way soon, one way or another. That's just the way we work. However, until then, how about those drinks-"

“I hate to deprive ya of my presence, but I’ve gotta bounce." Cuffin suddenly interrupted. Patterson and Whitaker's faces dropped simultaneously as they realised that they'd just been had.

"I’m sure you’ll see me again, so don’t sweat it." He continued. "Oh and just in case you do decide to stick around - and this is just a gut feeling, but somehow I think you will - remember the Explorers! I’m sure the guild’ll love to have ya!"

And with that said, Cuffin turned on his heels, gave a nonchalant little wave - and was gone, vanished into the crowd.

"You still owe us drinks, you stingy bastard!" Patterson shouted futilely at where the Furret had just been stood, shaking one gloved fist angrily in the air. He let out a frustrated sigh. "That annoying sonuva..."

Whitaker ground his teeth together. "He made us both look like idiots. It's a good job he pulled that vanishing act just now, or I would have beat him down no matter whether he's blind or not!" He shifted restlessly. "Damn it. I wasn't in the mood, but that's got me fired up again. Screw his guilds. Let's go to that bar and raise hell like we were gonna do to begin with!"

"Alright!" Patterson said, banging his gloves together passionately. The two slunk their way off through the crowds themselves, leaving a dark cloud reeking of ill intent trailing in their wake.

Meet Patterson the Hitmonchan and Whitaker the Toxicroak, two wannabe hard-knock hooligans who love to go to strange new places, meet interesting new people, and then get into wanton brawls with them. Is there more to them than meets the eye? Maaaaaybe.

Story entries:

This Town Ain't Big Enough! (Season 1, Mission 1)

22.01.14 - Just made a couple of small edits, there were a couple of errors in here that I'd only recently noticed that were bugging me. Also added a link to M1. Will add more entries here as they are written to make a kind of "table of contents."